The Book of Athanasius
by Bent Archer
Summary: The pilgramage of four travlers leads to the discovery of a story about the life of a vermin warrior and what it means to fight for what you truely believe in.
1. Chapter 1

The Book of Athanasius

Chapter 1

"Every story begins with another"

Hot winds blew across the dry land adding yet another discomfort to the already unbearable weather. Spotted here and there plants who, by natures own miracle, managed to survive, but you would never have known by looking at them. The midday sun was high above, Its summer born golden rays of heat bearing down, being neither friend to plant, nor water, and definitely not to the four travelers who made their way across the barren landscape.

Up front there were two otters. Similar in both height and impressive physical stature they made their way showing little sign of care for the intense heat. Taking a glance back it became apparent the other two travelers were not making as good a progress as them and that a little encouragement was needed.

One of the otters began shouting back at the creatures behind him. "OY! Urry up those baby legs o yors! Me and Trov ere don wanna be 'ere all season!"

The other otter, Trov, joined in on the teasing. "Ay, at the rate we're goin' we'll be ol an' grey right Brunt?"

The otters Brunt and Trov burst into laughter as the two companions hurried to catch up. One of them, a young red squirrel, bore on his back a large pack containing the supplies and gear of the four travelers. Angry at the otters forgetfulness of his current handicap he was about to voice his plight when the gentle pat of the hand from the creature beside him stayed his anger.

He turned his head, and auburn lady field mouse meeting his gaze. She had the same amount of seasons as him, yet scolded him like a den mother would a dibbun. "Don't go shooting off that mouth of yours Bernal. You promised that if we let you come with us you wouldn't complain and we're still holding you to that promise!"

Bernal found it hard not to smile whenever she spoke like that. "You're right Ammer," he said mimicking a small child, "I'm ever so sorry. Please don't send me up to bed with no dinner."

Ammer looked away, embarrassed at the realization of how prudish she had sounded. "No need to make fun. I just wanted you to be thankful that you are traveling with us."

Bernal gave a laugh, apologizing to Ammer as they both quickened their pace.

The two soon caught up with Brunt and Trov who had now stopped. The otters' faces seemed to be held in deep thought as they starred at the ground a small distance away. Bernal and Ammer looked ahead, following their stare. Waves of heat moved over the ground, blurring it to the point where nothing definite could be seen. Curious to see what Brunt and Trov were so concerned with they stared harder. Surprise began to overcome them when as things came in to view, so it seemed the ground itself was disappearing. The squirrel and mouse stood in awe of the immense canyon that stood before them.

They were warned about this and the great challenge it imposed, but what was pictured in their minds was nothing compared to what now lay before them. Close enough to see but too far to cross, the distance from one edge to the other was almost taunting them. There were no bridges, no crossings of any sort, and the canyon seemed to stretch from one end of the horizon to the next.

The silence that followed carried with it the announcement of defeat, something that doesn't get along with the stubbornness of otters. Trov moved over to the edge and peered down. The canyon was deep, but not bottomless. Jagged rocks, some even big enough to count as a ledge, lined the walls, leading down to where something familiar to Trov sped down the length of the canyon.

Trov motioned Brunt to come over, pointing to what he saw. Various whispers began going back and forth between them, too soft for Bernal or Ammer to hear. Tired at the day's travel, Bernal released the sack and gave his body a rest. Ammer did the same, sitting down next to him. They both starred at the other side of the canyon, the otters' continued their discussion at the edge.

Bernal looked over to Ammer, her face set solid in a look of determination. In an attempt to break the mood he tried talking. "Well," he said, "Some fix we got ourselves in huh? You'd have to be a bird to make it across that monster."

He chuckled. "I guess those old foggies back at the village weren't exageratin when they told us about this. What do you think will happen now?"

Without turning her head Ammer answered. "I don't know, but what I do know is that we've worked too hard to turn back now. I say there's nothing else but the road ahead, and whatever is asked of us to continue we must give with all that we are."

She turned her head to Bernal. A large grin was spread across his face. "Wow Ammer, and to think I was the one trying to cheer you up."

Ammer's solid look of determination melted away to joyful embarrassment as a wave of laughter erupted from the squirrel.

* * *

The echoes of Bernal's laughter had died out when Brunt and Trov came away from the edge. Booming in pride and confidence they moved quickly. Brunt grabbed the sack and began dividing it into two piles. Trov rummaged through the sack as well and selected a long piece of rope. Walking over to Bernal and Ammer he motioned for them to get up and began to tell them of the plan that him and Brunt had constructed.

"Well," he said, "as am sure ya figured out we can't vary well cross up top 'ere. Not even me on my best day could jump a hole that big, but me and Brunt ere 'ave been taken a gander at them walls. They ain't smooth that's fer sure. They're rough an' rocky, well enough fer a beast ta climb down, an' from what we saw that ain't no bottomless pit there, there's a river running down at the bottom. So it simple really, we climb down, take a relaxing swim across, an' make our ways back up hehe it'll be simple as teachin a bird ta fly."

Bernal and Ammer did not have the same confidence as Trov. Bernal laid back down while Ammer simply stood frozen. Quickly snapping out of it she began to question the security of the plan. "…I…I'm not a very good climber. As a matter of fact the only thing I ever climbed was stairs."

Trov rested a reassuring hand on Ammer. "No worries love. You'll have the best climber a lass could ask for helping ya every step o' the way."

Trov began tying the rope he had around Ammer's waist. Confused with Trov's words she asked who that was. Without a word he took the other end of the rope and, after helping the squirrel up, began trying it around Bernal's waist. Bernal started to go pale as he realized who the "best climber" was.

Bernal pulled Trov close so Ammer wouldn't hear. "Why me?" he whined, "I'm an average climber at best. You and Brunt are strong enough you could easily carry her on your own."

Trov's joyful face quickly faded. "Look," he said sternly, "Me an' Brunt will be carryin' the supplies, not a light affair as am sure you remember. On top o' that we'll have to test each rock we step on an' we can't do that with Ammer weighin' us down. Am sure you'll do fine. Yore a squirrel, climbin's in yore blood. Jus remember, Ammer's in yore care now so keep a good lookin' after her an' you'll do fine.

Bernal looked down as Trov finished tying the rope. With a deep breath he tried expelling his fear. He looked over to Ammer who was fidgeting with her end of the rope. Walking over to her he took her hands into his. "There's nothing to be scared of," he spoke with a voice that seemed calmer then he was, "Climbing is a lot easier then you think. We'll just take on step at time and it'll be over before you now it."

Trov smiled to himself as he and Brunt finished strapping the supply packs to their backs. Giving a small prayer to whoever was listening he made his way over the edge and began to climb down. Brunt followed shortly leaving Bernal a moment to gather his courage before making his way down with Ammer in tow.

The climb down started off slow, but slowly increased pace using the otter's improvised system. Bernal would wait a moment while Brunt and Trov tested the next set of rocks. After giving the go ahead Bernal would make his way down the path the otter's had selected stone for stone. Every few feet Bernal would glance up to check on Ammer. For a field mouse who had never climbed before she never showed it. Each step she made, although slow and cautious, was accurate and very sure footed. Bernal smiled to himself. She would've made a great squirrel.

Now halfway down the travelers' spirits were high. Fear and worry had given way to confidence and a newfound pride for their conquering of what had recently been an impossible task. Bernal, with Ammer above him, decided to take a look down while he waited for Brunt and Trov to give the next go ahead. Past the otters he could see the river clearly now. It wasn't as calm as it had appeared to be and was moving quite fast along the canyon floor. It wouldn't be an easy crossing, but confident with his courage and good friends beside him he felt ready to take anything on.

Trov shouted from below that the next few feet were okay. Bernal took note of which rocks to use and began to make his way down. He stopped. Bringing his foot back to where it had been Bernal stood still. He had heard something. It sounded like a whistle, but was very faint, too faint for the others to hear. Bernal turned his head to the direction of the sound as it slowly grew louder. There was nothing but the open space of the canyon. Looking farther into the distance he noticed a sandy haze filling the canyon. His eyes widened in horrific realization as it rushed towards them. "HOLD ON!" was all Bernal could manage to shout as the giant wind torrent hit.

Bernal buried his face into the canyon wall. Fear overcame the pain his body felt as he dug his hands and feet into the rocks. Sand whipped around him tearing cuts into both cloth and fur yet still he gripped tightly, unmoving from his perch.

There came a scream from above. Bernal froze in horror as he felt the form of Ammer fall past him. A million thoughts rushed through his mind, not a single one gave him a way out of his stupor. He could only clench his eyes with a knowingness of what was to come next.

To his surprise it never came. Ammer scream was suddenly cut off. There was a hard tug on the rope around Bernal's waist. Unprepared for such a burden he lost his footing. His arms strained for a moment and then gave way.

The world quickly sped up around Bernal. He saw Brunt and Trov speed by as he fell. There was neither a paw extended nor a look given. "They don't even know I fell," thought Bernal, "I'm alone…unnoticed…just as I've always been, and this is how I'll end."

Though his mind knew this as fact there was a glimmer of doubt. The glimmer grew into a screaming shout as a name entered his mind, "Ammer." She was there falling with him. She was always with him. Bernal acted quickly, scrambling at the canyon walls with his hands and feet. Through near misses and rocks giving away under his grasps he managed to slow down their decent enough to grab hold and stop.

The wind was dieing down and Bernal could see their situation. His hands and legs were ragged. Cuts and gashes to numerous to count covered is body. By will and determination he held on, but Bernal knew he wouldn't last. Looking up he tried to spot Brunt and Trov. The various rocks and crags made it impossible to see the otters. Bernal looked down, hoping Ammer was well enough to get herself back onto the wall. She hung by her waist, unmoving. "She must be unconscious from the sudden stop," he thought, though it was more of a hope then a realization.

Bernal was running out of ideas and, although he couldn't feel it, he knew his grip was slipping. Past Ammer the river was now in full view, but still a long drop away. Bernal saw it as the only option. He made a silent promise both to himself and Ammer, "You're going to be alright Ammer. The road ahead is still there and I'm going to give all that I am to make sure you reach it."

Pushing out with his legs, Bernal launched himself off the wall. He made sure he moved far enough so that the rope pulled Ammer along with him towards the middle of the river. Straightening himself out, he prepared for the river's cold impact.

He hit it faster then he had expected. Bernal's speed drove him into the bottom. He felt a blinding pain in his left leg as it broke itself against a rock. Bernal desperately began to surface, one leg flailing limp.

Breaking the surface Bernal franticly pulled on the rope. The current quickly began to carry them downriver as the body of Ammer was brought to him. She seemed to have landed better then himself. She floated on her back and look as though she suffered no injuries from the fall. Bernal rested her body on top of his, keeping her head above water. Using the rope he tied and retied himself to her.

Finishing the last knot he let fatigue and pain overwhelm him. Leaning back the cold water crept up his neck and head. The world was slowly fading away to black. There was no pain, only the satisfaction that she would be okay and the sorrow that he wasn't able to finish their journey together. In the end he smiled. He found his answer to the trouble he carried with him from the village and with this he let the world slip away to nothingness.


	2. Chapter 2

The Book of Athanasius

Chapter 2

"The old otter"

Brunt and Trov reached the bottom of the canyon. Landing on the bank of the river they began searching for their two lost friends. Trov shouted out Ammer and Bernal's names while Brunt scanned the river. There came no reply from the calls and no sign of their passing could be seen. The two otters looked at each other. Visions of the worst filled their minds.

Kicking a nearby rock into the water, Brunt cursed himself. He was the one closest to Ammer and Bernal yet he didn't notice they were gone till the dust storm had cleared. When he realized they were no longer above him they had already fallen out of sight. He hung his head and tried to quell the anger he felt.

Trov saw the pain Brunt was feeling but had no words he could say to help. Instead, his mind began to go to work. Reaching into his supply sack, he pulled out a map and started making quick glances to where they climbed down from and where the river flowed. Having gained his bearings Trov ran his finger along the map, coming to a stop near the edge. "Well ah'll be a stoat's daughter," he muttered.

Quickly putting the map away Trov hurried over to Brunt who stood and stared at the rushing river. He heard Trov come to a stop next to him. The reassuring presence of his friend made Brunt no longer able to keep his thoughts concealed. As he talked, each sentence seemed to quiver on the edge of a raging shout. "…Ah should've kept ma eye on em. If ah was watchin' em maybe ah could've caught em when they fell……This wasn't supposed ta happen, Trov! We promised em they'd be okay an' now look!...Blast! Ah'm the strongest beast in the whole village, but wot's the point o havin' strength if ya can't protect yer friends?

Trov patted his shoulder, hoping to calm his friend down. "Look," he said, "Ah know yer worried about em but ah need ye ta stay wit me mate. No amount o strength could've stopped wot happened, so there's no sense in gettin' ya'self lost about it. We didn't find em 'ere at the bank, so that means they must've hit the river an' been carried off. You an' I both know wot a difference there is between water an' rock."

Brunt relaxed and gave a nod. There was still a chance Bernal and Ammer were still alive and he knew it was foolish to squander that chance with hatred. Trov was glad his words helped and let Brunt in on his finding. "Besides, If wot this map tells me is true, then this river is goin' ta flow right into Mossflower. So let's get a move on, those two 'ave a head start on us an' you know if Bernal beat us there we wouldn't hear the end o it."

With a smile Trov took off down the bank. Brunt gave chase and soon passed him, returning the smile. Fear for the worst still hung in the minds of both otters, but they were never ones to give up hope, and had each other to remind themselves of that.

* * *

A thick and heavy white mist filled the air around Bernal. He had been walking in the same direction for sometime now and still had not found anything. Even though he didn't know where he was going, he was in no hurry or even worried. A strange calm had been with him since he found himself in this world and with no troubles to weigh him down he kept moving on. 

Bernal narrowed his eyes. Something in the distance was beginning to take shape. His spirits rose as the shapes of various beasts could be seen ahead of him in the mist. Although he could not tell who they were Bernal still felt they were familiar, as if he knew each and every one of them. Getting closer he noticed they were beckoning him forward.

Eager to join them, the squirrel broke out into a run. He didn't make it more then a couple feet before quickly stopping. The most repulsive smell was coming from behind him. Bernal bent over and covered his nose, trying not to gag. Looking up, he saw the figures were still there. Their arms were spread wide in a welcoming motion. He wanted to keep going but his curiosity for the smell had overcome him. Bernal apologized to those ahead and, taking a deep breath, turned around. The world was filled with a blinding light.

* * *

Bernal slowly opened his eyes. He found himself lying in what felt like a bed. Above him various roots of some great plant hung from a dirt ceiling. Bernal wondered where he was and what happened to the mist filled land. 

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt something squeeze his hand. He turned his head to see what it was. The squeeze grew harder as the face of Ammer stared back at him. Tears began to flow down her face. Bernal sat up and was about to ask what was wrong when she fell upon him, holding his body in a tight embrace. A sharp inward breath passed through Bernal's teeth as pain shot through his body. While trying to recover from the initial shock he managed to wrap his arms around her. He held her softly, reassuring her that everything thing was okay. Ammer continued to cry. All her fear and worry were rushed out in one outburst of emotion. As time passed Ammer's sobs slowly died out, leaving only the steady breathing of one exhausted field mouse

While Ammer slept Bernal examined their surroundings. It was night outside. A dim light from candles scattered about the floor filled the cave. The walls, floor, and ceiling were nothing more then packed in dirt. It could've been a rather ordinary cave, but there were certain items that looked out of place. There were large stacks of books, shelves with unused sets of dinning wear, and a writing desk. A thin layer of dust covered them and testified to their unwillingness to belong in this dug out dwelling. Despite the earthy appearance they had, they still looked liked they belonged in the homes Bernal knew. The bed he was laying in was even rather fancy. Carved from wood with sheets made of cloth, it was comfortable despite the pain he felt from his injuries. What was strangest of all was a large wooden club, stuck in the wall opposite of him and Ammer. It looked as though it was driven in with incredible force.

A strange hacking laughter broke the silence. It was followed by a ragged and hoarse sounding voice from deeper in the cave. "Hek Hek Hek. Squirrel finally get up eh? Squirrel lucky ta 'ave friend like lady mouse. Lady Mouse not leave Squirrel's side since Whiskem brought Mouse an' Squirrel ta Whiskem's home. Lady Mouse worry Squirrel would not live, but Whiskem know better. Whiskem see beast worse'n Squirrel live. Hek Hek Hek."

From out of the shadows came one of the strangest otters Bernal had ever seen. Hunched over the otter was covered in a cloak that seemed just as alive as the creature wearing it, with lumps of mold and fungi growing in various areas. The passing seasons had not been kind to the old otter. Wrinkled and grey, each arm and leg seemed to shake with every step the otter took. The simple act of walking seemed a struggle but the otter still did it with an eerie glee. It was carrying something in each hand. In one there was a short wooden cane while the other held a wooden bowl filled with some sort of thick steaming liquid.

The otter set the bowl beside Bernal. Bernal held back a gag as the mystery of the awful smell in his dream was quickly solved by the contents of what was now by the bed. He attempted to politely cover his nose while looking to see what was in the bowl. Only one or two vegetables were recognizable in the grayish bubbling broth.

The old otter Whiskem noticed Bernal eyeing the soup. "Squirrel no need ta fear that. Whiskem's soup good fer healing many a beast. Any sickness or injury all seem much better after one eats it. Many times in past Whiskem hear it 'ave power ta wake the dead. Hek Hek Hek."

Bernal did not doubt Whiskem's claim. He brought his back, allowing himself a breath of fresh air and a chance to speak. "I'm fine…really," he said, "You've done a lot for us already kind sir and I just want to say tha"

A loud thwack echoed in the cave as Whiskem hit Bernal firmly on the head with the cane. Bernal clutched his head. "Ow! What did you do that for?" he yelled.

"Sir? Sir?" shouted the otter, "Whiskem not sir! Not sir at all! Hmph. Some thanks Squirrel show Whiskem. Whiskem save Squirrel, care fer Squirrel, an' Squirrel goes an' calls Whiskem sir. Maybe Whiskem call Squirrel Lady Squirrel now. Would you care fer that Lady Squirrel?"

All the yelling caused Ammer to wake from her sleep. Looking up she saw Bernal holding his head in pain. With an immediate concern for her friend she started to tend to the large bump forming on Bernal. "My goodness! What happened?" she asked.

"That crazy loon hit me with a cane," he replied.

There was another loud thwack as Ammer gave Bernal a sharp slap on his already injured head. Putting her hands on her hips Ammer began scolding the besieged squirrel. "Bernal! I will not have you insulting Miss Whiskem! She rescued and cared for us all out of the goodness of her kind heart. We owe our lives to her. Now, you apologize this instant."

Bernal felt like he was trapped in one of his nightmares. Ammer's face was set in a look that would make the sturdiest of beast crumble into a wailing infant. He looked over to Whiskem who gave him a smile of crooked teeth. There was no way out of it. Giving the greatest performance he could, Bernal apologized to Whiskem. She accepted it and promptly made him eat her soup.

Whiskem's boasts had proved to be true. After one spoonful Bernal forgot all the pain he felt. The dread of the next dozen spoonfuls seemed to overcome all feeling and the smell coming off the soup kept him from passing out.

As Bernal continued to endure his torture Ammer excused herself. Giving a courtesy to Whiskem she retired to a small mat placed at the foot of the bed. When it was noticeable that she had gone back to sleep, Whiskem pulled a stool next to Bernal and sat down. Keeping her voice low as to not wake Ammer, the otter started talking. "Hek Hek Lady Mouse sure be a strange creature eh Squirrel? Whiskem never seen a lady mouse put a beast in its place like that before. But even so, Lady Mouse must be special ta Squirrel fer Squirrel ta risk life. Whiskem was wondering, wot make Squirrel and Lady mouse take such dangerous risk?"

Bernal set the bowl down. His face was somber as he recalled the past. "We were headed for a place called Redwall Abbey," he finally said, "You see, our village we came from wasn't always a free one. Long ago, before me or Ammer were born, our village was under the control of a group of vermin. I was told it had been that way for ages, but one day a rumor started to spread. The rumor spoke of a place called Redwall and of the creatures who lived there, honest hardworking beasts who lived in happiness and freedom. The people of my village had known nothing but oppression, and this rumor had given them the strength and courage to rise up and drive out the vermin. After the village was freed many beasts wished to make the long trek to live in Redwall, but by then Redwall was considered a sacred place. Only those who could, in some way, serve a purpose and help the Redwallers were allowed to go. There were two otters traveling with us, Brunt and Trov. Brunt was the strongest beast of the village though he is only a little older then myself, and I had never met a smarter beast then Trov. He was well on his way to becoming the village leader but chose make the journey instead. And Ammer, well…No one can handle little ones like her and from what we've heard Redwall needs all the help it can get…We were all making the journey together before me and Ammer fell and were swept away…"

Whiskem leaned on her cane, raising an eyebrow at Bernal. "Interestin' story Squirrel, but Whiskem thinks Squirrel left out somethin'…Why does Squirrel journey ta Redwall? What does squirrel offer ta the Redwallers?"

Bernal did not give an answer. There was a long silence as he just stared at the foot of the bed. Though he was not facing her, he could feel Whiskem's eyes on him. Her stare burrowing into him, trying to force out the answer he was so reluctant to say.

Bernal couldn't hold it back anymore. In a whisper of shame his reply slipped past his lips. "I…don't know," he said, "Back at the village I had never really been good at anything. It's not that I didn't try, it's just I could never find the devotion the other villagers had for the things they did. Since I never excelled at anything the elders denied my request to travel to Redwall. It was because of Brunt, Trov, and Ammer that I was able to go. They snuck me out with them, leaving a day early so that no one would notice. Heh, they told me I would be able to figure out what my purpose was on our way there. For a moment I thought I did. I thought that if I could save Ammer and ensure that she would make it to Redwall then that would've been my purpose…but now…It doesn't matter anyway now. There's no way we're reaching Redwall. The river carried us so far down it'll take seasons to get back to where we were."

Shame and disappointment over his own words made Bernal shift uneasily in the bed. Turning his head he was met with a disgusted look from Whiskem. With a snort and a stamp of her foot she stood up. "Hmph! Now Squirrel just speak nonsense. Whiskem know Redwall very well. Redwall in Mossflower wood, yes? Well, Squirrel an' Lady Mouse in Mossflower now, not more'n few days from 'sacred' Redwall. As fer Squirrel havin' no purpose…Hmph! A beast with no purpose is a beast not lookin' fer one. Squirrel certaintly an able beast. Savin' Lady Mouse an' survivin' wasn't somthin' anybeast could do. Is Squirrel educated? Can Squirrel read? Can Squirrel write?"

Anger slowly grew in Bernal for Whiskem. He had heard this speech before, many times. His parents, the elders, even his friends had all said the same thing. Each time Bernal thought that if it was that simple he would've figured it out on his own. Sighing, Bernal nodded. It was a hesitant nod.

Whiskem threw her arms up in amazement. "Then Whiskem thinks there should be no problem wit Squirrel. Squirrel 'ave many more choices then most beasts do. Hmph…Whiskem remember last beast that visit. Whiskem found a Rat washed up along bank, but Whiskem learn that even Rat had a purpose."

That was all Bernal could take. To hear himself being outdone by a rat ignited his anger. "You're telling me you cared for some despicable vermin?" he shouted, "And what purpose did this villain have? To pillage and murder innocent creatures without a care for who they were?"

A loud snarl came from Whiskem. She quickly grabbed Bernal by the shoulder. He flinched in both pain and shock from the otter's suddenly hard grip. Bernal found himself frightened. There was a vengeful look in Whiskem's eyes, a fire of pure rage seemed to burn inside them. When she spoke it was a sharp and hateful hissing sound. "Villain? Vermin? Squirrel talks as if Squirrel knew Rat. Squirrel knows nothing! Rat was true warrior! Rat was something Squirrel an' friends would never be, an' ta talk o Rat as common thug is insult!"

Whiskem raised her cane to strike Bernal. He closed his eyes and braced for the hit, but it never came. There was a long pause, then Whiskem let go of Bernal's shoulder. Opening his eyes, he looked up at Whiskem. Her head was turned. She seemed to be starring at the club imbedded in the wall. She turned back to Bernal and lowered her cane. Her face was pale and her voice was now a little more then a whisper. "…Whiskem sorry. Squirrel have many troubles. Not right fer Squirrel ta deal with Whiskem's."

Picking up the soup bowl beside Bernal the old otter made her way to the back of the cave, blowing out the candles as she passed them. Before blowing out the last one she spoke to Bernal. "Squirrel need much rest before Squirrel can finish journey. Squirrel should not worry about anythin' else."

Blowing out the last candle, Whiskem left Bernal in darkness. Laying back down in the bed, he was soon fast asleep. The cave was now silent save for the deep breathing of two sleeping beasts and the quiet sobs of an old otter.


	3. Chapter 3

The Book of Athanasius

Chapter 3

"A promise given with a story"

When Bernal woke it was as though no time had passed at all. The sounds of nighttime could still be heard outside as well as the gentle, and unspoken of, snoring of Ammer at the foot of the bed. The only light was from a single candle burning on a desk at the other end of the cave. At the desk sat Whiskem, her back facing Bernal. She seemed to be going over something on the desk.

The words and emotions of their previous argument pressured Bernal into saying something, although fear of a second fight made the topic something unrelated. "Heh, looks like I was tireder then I thought," He said, "Slept clear through the next day and into the night. Man, Ammer must've been sore with me. Usually if I oversleep only a few moments I get an earful. Well, if she did yell at me I'm glad I slept through it."

Whiskem showed no surprise in Bernal's sudden attempt at conversation. Without turning to face him Whiskem responded. "Squirrel no need ta worry. It's still same night when Squirrel first wake. If Whiskem woke Squirrel, Whiskem sorry. Whiskem jus 'ave problems sleepin' is all."

Her apology struck a cord with Bernal. His mind showed Whiskem as the kindest creature of all the land, while giving himself an image of a foul and cruel beast whose own selfishness had tortured and traumatized the poor defenseless otter. Fooled into believing his own bending of the truth Bernal gave in to his feelings of guilt. "I'm sorry Whiskem…I mean…about earlier…what you said was right. I did not know this rat and I had no right to judge him like that. To be honest I've never really met a rat before. I only know of them from the stories the elders and adults would tell us."

There came a sigh from Whiskem. "Squirrel no need ta apologize. Whiskem was right, but maybe Squirrel right too. Rat was certainly not normal beast."

Something started to glimmer in the back of Bernal's mind, some idea or feeling urging him on, creating an insatiable curiosity for this otter's last visitor. "Who was he?" he asked.

"If Squirrel truly wishes ta know, then Whiskem will tell," She replied, "It happen many seasons ago, Whiskem think even afore Squirrel was born…Hek…an' when Whiskem could still be called otter 'maid'. Whiskem find Rat lyin' on riverbank 'alf dead from blade an' arrow. Whiskem would 'ave finished off Rat if Rat's eyes hadn't stopped Whiskem."

Bernal was puzzled by Whiskem's words. "How did his eyes save him?"

Whiskem turned to Bernal and pointed a finger to her eye. "A beast can lie many ways, wit words an' body but never wit eyes. Eyes always tell truth."

There was an eagerness in Bernals voice. He now had a great interest in the old otter's story. "And what did the rat's eyes say?"

"Whiskem seen eyes o many vermin," she continued, "Eyes filled wit greed an' hate an' fear. Rat's eyes had none o these, only look o solid will even when facin' death. Whiskem had seen these once before, when Whiskem was little, an' that creature was no enemy o Whiskem. Whiskem took chance. Told Rat Whiskem would not harm. Rat nod an' let Whiskem help Rat ta Whiskem's home. When Whiskem lift Rat up Whiskem saw Rat still had sword in hand. Even 'alf dead Rat coulda killed Whiskem, but Rat did not. Whiskem thought Rat very strange. Rat never tried ta hurt Whiskem nor Whiskem hurt Rat, but Rat still never let go o sword or wot was tied round Rat's waist."

Bernal opened his mouth to ask what it was but Whiskem, already knowing the squirrel's question, quickly answered. "A small bag. Hek Hek, Whiskem remember it had little flowers on it an' looked silly on Rat, but Rat held it jus' as hard as sword. When Whiskem got Rat back ta Whiskem's home Rat pass out. Rat did not wake fer many days. While Rat slept Whiskem bandage Rat's wounds. Whiskem surprised Rat lived at all. Rat's wounds woulda killed a beast many times over yet Rat jus' slept. When Rat did wake Rat ask strange question. Rat ask which way ta Redwall. After Whiskem tell Rat same thin' Whiskem told Squirrel, Whiskem spend rest o day keepin' Rat in bed. Whiskem try ta say Rat too injured but Rat didn't listen. Whiskem soon let Rat go. Rat not make two steps afore collapsin'. After that Rat gave Whiskem no more troubles. Nearly whole season pass fer Rat ta heal. Whiskem woke one day ta find Rat outside home, jus' starin' in direction o Redwall. Rat seemed troubled by somthin'. Rat would try an' take a step only ta stop an' keep standin'. Rat then looked down at sword Rat held. Rat walked back ta Whiskem an' asked fer quill an' paper. Fer first time Whiskem not surprised. Rat had not done one normal thin' so nothin' surprise Whiskem now."

"Why did he want them?" interrupted Bernal, "Are you saying this rat could actually write?"

Whiskem gave Bernal an annoyed look. "If Squirrel wishes ta hear story'n Squirrel will stop talkin'…Now…Whiskem had writin' tools given ta Whiskem as gift, but Whiskem had no use fer em, so Whiskem gave ta Rat. An' yes, Rat could write. Fer three days Rat sit at desk an' write. When Rat finished, Rat give Whiskem papers an' ask Whiskem ta deliver em ta a hare maid at Redwall. Whiskem could tell this request important ta Rat, so Whiskem promised ta give papers ta hare maid. Rat left after that, grabbed sword an' bag an' started walkin' away from Redwall back upriver. Whiskem never see Rat again…"

Turning back to the desk Whiskem picked up the book that lay on top of it. To call it a book is giving it more credit then it was worth. It was really only a stack of worn papers hand bound with bits of string. Whiskem brought it over to Bernal. "Whiskem did Rat great wrong. Whiskem did not tell Rat…Whiskem could never go back ta Redwall."

There was a great sorrow in Whiskem's words. Bernal thought the old otter would break into tears, but when he looked into her eyes he only saw a look of hope. "Does Squirrel still wish ta go ta Redwall?" she asked.

Bernal gave a nod. Whiskem then presented the book to Bernal. "Then will Squirrel please help Whiskem keep promise ta Rat an' deliver this ta Hare Maid?"

The book was shaking in Whiskem's hands as Bernal took it. "Of course I will," he replied.

Whiskem gave a smile that seemed to go from ear to ear. She leaned close to Bernal and whispered in his ear. Her voice was no longer ragged but gentle sounding. "Thank you Bernal. I still have many things ta answer fer but am glad ma last promise can be kept. The Hare's name is Mayferry. Be sure she gets this an' tell her am sorry fer takin' so long."

Bernal was taken aback at Whiskem's words. Before he could say anything Whiskem had already left his side. She slipped the hood of her cloak over her head as she made her way outside.

"Where are you going?" asked Bernal.

Whiskem looked back and responded in her old voice. "Whiskem do all Whiskem could fer Squirrel, but Squirrel's leg broken. Leg needs Redwall medicine. Whiskem will go find Squirrel's otter friends ta help Squirrel ta Redwall. Otters no dummies an' will follow river."

She then walked out of sight. Bernal was slightly confused at who Whiskem the old otter really was. He looked down at the book in his lap. A strange rat warrior, a hare maid waiting at the gates of Redwall, and a book written seasons ago. Bernal wondered what he had started upon, but felt that now he would be the one to finish it.


	4. Chapter 4

The Book of Athanasius

Chapter 4

"Four travelers once more"

Beams of light from the midday sun pierced through the green canopy of Mossflower wood. Bird song could be heard side by side with a rushing river and the rustle of leaves, creating a cacophony of sound only nature could make. Peace and freedom could be seen and felt all around. Yet, the warm embrace of Mossflower went unnoticed by the two otters that ran along the riverbank.

Slowing down to a stop they collapsed to the ground. Muscles and lungs burned as the two otters tried to regain their strength. No words passed between them as they sat, but their silence spoke volumes. Brunt and Trov had been running for almost several days straight now, with little rest or slowing. Though fit beasts, the strain of constant travel combined with the despair of having found no sign of their friends had worn away their spirit. They both knew the truth of their situation and that the worst may be something they would have to face.

It was a commitment they already agreed to carry out many times but Trov said it nonetheless. "We're not gonna stop," he said, "No point goin' this far only ta give up now." It was more a reassurance to himself then Brunt.

Brunt agreed, even if what they found wasn't what they wanted. His body shot waves of painful protest through him as he rose to his feet. He motioned for Trov to keep resting as he started to walk away. When he was some distance from Trov, Brunt stared at his surroundings. He had imagined, once, the joy he would feel when he reached Mossflower, to finally be free of burden and expectation, but the guilt he now carried from the canyon kept him from making it a reality. He stared down at the ground, not wanting to even think about where he was. Lost in his thoughts Brunt didn't notice the hunched form of Whiskem walk over and take a seat on a nearby rock.

Whiskem sat staring at Brunt, his head looking down to the ground at his feet. She soon realized that he hadn't noticed her and gave a rather loud cough to get his attention. Her cough caught him by surprise. In one quick motion he reached down, grabbing a stone from the riverbank and, without looking, launched it at Whiskem. The old otter made an annoyed growl. Gripping her cane in both hands she swung and hit the stone, sending it back to Brunt. He dove to the ground just as the stone flew past his head.

"Hmph! Some greetin' Otter give Whiskem!" she yelled, "It's any wonder Otter has friends when Otter attacks every beast Otter meets!"

"An' wot kinda greetin' is it ta sneek up an' surprise a beast?" Brunt shouted back.

Brunt tried to stand back up but Whiskem cleared the gap between them and another swing of her cane sent him diving to the ground again.

Hearing the commotion Trov came running over. Seeing the other otter, Whiskem backed away from Brunt and sat back down on the rock. Helping Brunt to his feat, Trov tried to apologize to Whiskem. "Am sorry fer me mate 'ere. From where we come from strangers aren't the kind o beasts who are friendly."

"Whiskem see that," she replied, "Otter stranger, an' throwin' rock certaintly not friendly ta Whiskem."

Whiskem looked Trov up and down. She then shook her finger at Brunt. "If Smart Otter's friend wishes ta live in Redwall then Strong Otter must learn ta trust everybeast."

Trov walked over to the old otter. Kneeling down he stared straight into her eyes. "How did ya know where we were goin'?" he asked.

Whiskem gave a smile. "Squirrel tell Whiskem all about Otter friends an' trip ta Redwall."

The two otters quickly looked back at each other, making sure they both heard what Whiskem had said. Turning back to Whiskem, Trov put his hand on her shoulder. "You said squirrel. Did ya mean Bernal? Is he alright?"

Whiskem gave a nod. Trov started to laugh and hurried over to Brunt who stood dumbstruck at hearing the good news of his friend. "Ya hear that mate? Bernal's ok! He's ok!"

Brunt looked down at Whiskem. "An' Ammer? Was there a mouse wit Bernal as well?"

Whiskem continued to nod. "Yes. Yes. Squirrel an' Lady Mouse okay. Squirrel an' Lady Mouse at Whiskem's home waitin' fer Otter Friends. Otter Friends must hurry an' come wit Whiskem. Squirrel okay but need Otter Friends' help."

The two otters were overwhelmed with joy. Their fear quickly replaced by an eagerness to see their two friends again. "Yes, o course," said Brunt, "Lead the way sir."

Whiskem gave another annoyed growl and raised her cane at Brunt. "Sir? Sir?"

* * *

"I'm not eating any more!" Bernal protested, "Whiskem said I'm fine cept for my leg, and that only the Redwallers could help with that. So I don't need any more 'healing' from that stuff!" 

Ammer continued to hold the bowl filled with Whiskem's soup in front of Bernal. "And I say it's better to be safe then sorry. Regardless of whether or not you're okay you still need to eat Bernal and this is all there is."

Bernal still refused. He was trying to keep his nose as far away from the bowl as possible. Seeing no other choice she pulled the bowl back, and spoke in a soft tone. "Please…I just want to do what I can." she said, "I've done nothing but worry about you since we got here."

Bernal tried to look away but it was too late. He had already caught a glimpse of the sad face Ammer was making. He tried shaking the image out of his mind but it was already bringing waves of guilt. Giving a sigh he took the bowl into his hands, smiling as he did so. Ammer seemed to cheer up instantly as she went to get him a spoon. Bernal shook his head. He had always joked that Ammer could conquer armies with that sad face of hers, but each time she used it on him he wondered if maybe his joke might actually be true.

Ammer was bringing the spoon when, from seemingly out of nowhere, Whiskem quickly shuffled past. Bernal heard her mumbling something about 'sir' as she sat herself down. He was about to ask her what had happened when he heard Ammer drop her spoon. Turning his head, he saw her running towards the two otters that now stood in the entrance. The smiling faces of Brunt and Trov could be seen as they practically lifted Ammer off the ground in one giant hug. Ammer was on the verge of tears but the happiness of the occasion held them at bay. Setting her down Brunt noticed Bernal lying on the bed. He rushed over to him but Whiskem quickly extended her cane in front of Bernal. "Squirrel bad enough as is," she said, "Otter be careful wit Squirrel."

He was slightly hurt by Whiskem's words, but Brunt understood what she was saying. He knelt down beside Bernal. There were a million things Brunt wanted to say, but seeing Bernal alive and ok made his own troubles rather childish. He patted Bernal on the shoulder and simply said, "Ya did good mate."

Being congratulated by one of the strongest beasts you've ever met was certainly something Bernal never thought he would hear. Not knowing what to say he simply returned the gesture by patting Brunt on his shoulder. The two friends sat in a silent moment of respect…which was abruptly cut short by Brunt's growling stomach. "…Heh…Sorry mate." he said, "It's been a couple days since we had somethin' ta eat."

He looked down to Bernal's soup bowl which Bernal gladly offered. He picked up the spoon Ammer had dropped and began digging into the soup. His whole body seemed to stop as the liquid entered his mouth. Brunt swallowed slowly, shuddering when he finished. "Ack…Wot is this? Who's the bloody mad beast that's callin' that food?" he asked.

Bernal tried to suppress a laugh as he pointed a finger to Whiskem, who was now starring intently at Brunt. Brunt turned to the old otter and gave a rather unconvincing smile. "…Heh…Um…Best stuff ah ever tasted miss…Ya must tell me wot ya put in it."

Whiskem walked right up to Brunt. "…Love," she said.

* * *

A whole day passed before the four travelers set off from Whiskem's home. Whiskem told Trov of the way to Redwall. Trov listened intently, marking down every landmark and every turn on his map. Not wanting to add anymore bumps to his head, Brunt kept his distance from Whiskem by making a stretcher to carry Bernal…outside. Ammer restocked their supplies, but was saddened for being unable to find any way to carry Whiskem's soup. Brunt and Bernal were also saddened by this. They truly felt bad for hiding all the containers from Ammer, but felt it was for the best. 

Once everything was ready Brunt and Trov lifted Bernal from the bed and set him down on the stretcher. The two otters took positions in front and back of Bernal and, raising him up, started to make their way out of the cave. Ammer gave a tearful goodbye to Whiskem, promising to come visit her when she had the chance. Trov gave a polite bow, thanking her for everything she's done for them. Brunt made sure he was beyond the reach of her cane before speaking, though none of his words seemed to anger Whiskem this time. Bernal gave a simple goodbye, but never took his eyes off her when they started to leave. He didn't know if he would ever see the old otter again. There was so much he wanted to ask her, but felt that all he'd ever know is what he saw and heard that one night in the cave.

They traveled for some time in complete silence. Each of them lost in their own thoughts. It was Trov who eventualy broke the silence. Looking down at Bernal he asked, "Wot's that ya got there mate? A gift from Miss Whiskem?"

Bernal had completely forgotten about the book that was in his lap. He picked it up and showed it to the others. "Yeah…Well…Sort of," he said, "I promised Whiskem I'd deliver this to Redwall for her. It's important this reaches a hare maid who lives there."

Trov eyed the book. "Did Miss Whiskem say anythin' about it bein' private?"

Bernal looked back at Trov and shook his head. "No…Why?"

Trov gave a chuckle. "Well, Ah don't know bout ya, mates, but this silence is killin' me, an' ah don't think I can stand several days o this while we head fer Redwall. Why don't ya read it ta us Bernal?"

Bernal looked back at the book. He thought about Trov's request and whether or not he should, but in the end it was his own curiosity that made him read it. Opening it up carefully, Bernal was surprised at the style of writing. He had seen the elegant styles of his teachers and the various scribbling of young ones, but what he saw in the book was different. He could tell it was written with a solid hand. There was nothing fancy about it. Every word was spelled correctly, something Bernal himself couldn't claim to be able to do. How a Rat could gain such an ability confused Bernal. He was about to ponder this discovery some more when he saw that Brunt, Trov, and Ammer were starring at him.

"Heh, sorry…" he said, "I'll get on with it."

Taking a deep breath Bernal began to read out loud. "_The following is the story of what I would call my life. I'm writing this to keep a promise I made, for I am unable to make it in person. I think, in some way, this might give a better understanding of who I am and why I've made the choice I'm making now. But fair warning, I do not attend for this to be turned into some sort of apology. I have neither sympathy nor remorse for those I have killed and what I have done, nor do I ask for your forgiveness for my actions. What I give is the truth and I expect it in return."_

Bernal stopped. He hadn't realized what he might actually be reading, but the words he said now hung in the air. Trov looked to the others. "You heard the bloke," he said, "So don't go gettin' all false on em. Bernal, keep goin'. Let's hear wot this killer has ta say."

Brunt and Ammer agreed with Trov and encouraged Bernal to continue. Taking another breath Bernal continued to read.


	5. Chapter 5

The Book of Athanasius

Chapter 5

"What's in a name?"

_"Perhaps I should start with my name, yes? Someone once told me that it's rude if you don't introduce yourself first…Unfortunately, you're just going to have to bear with me being rude for now. My name has a story behind it I think needs telling for, unlike most beasts of the land, my name had to be EARNED instead of being given. So let's see…I was born during the last season of our 'glorious' Warlord Tyrus. Unnoticed and nameless I was one of many young ones who lived in the camps of Tyrus's army, doomed to become nothing more then a lowly soldier. Thankfully, I was spared that unwanted fate with Tyrus's death. I'm sure you're wondering what the death of a warlord has to do with the life of a simple rat child. Well, you see, it started with the duty of every dieing Warlord to select a successor with his last breath. And Warlord Tyrus had two sons to choose from, Dagrurt and Sunder." _

* * *

Dark clouds blocked out the night sky over the vermin camp. Though thunder could be heard within their thick canopy, the clouds released neither rain nor lightning. They remained in the air as if waiting for something, a cause or reason to unleash their fury on the creatures below. Down in the camp torches provided the only light as stoats, rats, foxes, and various other beasts 'enlisted' into the Warlord's service moved about the tents.

A feeling of general disregard could be felt throughout the camp. It had been weeks since Tyrus had given any orders and the rumor of his imminent death had been slowly wearing away at the obedience of those who served him. The only ones still staying true to there duties were the two soldiers stationed outside Tyrus's own tent. They had also heard the rumors and figured that if a new warlord was going to emerge from the tent then the first sight he sees better be beasts doing their job.

The wind began to howl from outside the warlord's tent. It was the only noise to be heard as the beasts inside kept themselves in silence. Lying on a large oaken bed was Warlord Tyrus, the wildcat. He was once a fearsome beast to behold in his prime, but time had reduced him now to nothing more then the husk of an old grey cat shivering in the nighttime cold. By his bedside sat the servant rat, Wert. Wert served Tyrus since he was little and seeing his master in such a state made him worry if maybe his own life was going to come to an end. He gave nervous glances to Tyrus's two sons, Dagrurt and Sunder, who stood at the foot of the bed. Once Tyrus is gone the value of Wert's own life would be decided by one of them. He gave another nervous glance at the two wildcats.

The older brother Sunder was very large, even for a wildcat. Across his massive frame dark and matted fur would constantly be interrupted by scars both big and small. He would often be seen clad in armor or chain mail, but tonight he wore only simple clothes and a leather harness. Strapped to his back was all the protection he needed, a vicious looking mace whose size rivaled that of an adult rat.

Dagrurt, however, was the exact opposite of his brother. He was no more then half the size of Sunder and the lack of physical battle kept his body unmarked, slender, and well groomed. An elegant white tunic covered him and was tied tightly around his waste with a small scabbard carrying a single dagger. Even though he was rather tame compared to his brother, Dagrurt's intelligence and sinister tactics had given him the same level of fear among the vermin ranks. Side by side they painted a picture of night and day.

Dagrurt and Sunder waited patiently as their father slipped in and out of consciousness. Both brothers mentally salivated at the idea of being named warlord and felt there was no other beast more worthy of the title then themselves. They exchanged sorrowful glances back and forth, trying to convince the other that they were more concerned with losing their father then gaining all that is his.

Their game of deceit quickly ended as Tyrus stirred awake in his bed. Wert helped the old wildcat sit up to examine his two sons. Dagrurt and Sunder immediately stood at attention under their father's gaze. Tyrus looked from Dagrurt, to Sunder, and then back to Dagrurt again. To the surprise of the other beasts in the room he started to laugh, like he had just figured out some hysterical joke. It was not a particularly healthy laugh and it soon turned into a ragged cough. Wert tried to hold Tyrus still as he violently jerked with each cough. Dagrurt and Sunder remained at attention. They smiled to themselves, knowing that each cough brought them one step closer to their prize.

When Tyrus's fit had calmed his breathing became shallow. Wert picked up a napkin and began to wipe the blood from Tyrus's mouth. As the cloth touched his face Tyrus started to whisper, "I was given life…and this is what I give back? Hah…let some other beast end my burdens…I will go without regrets and Dagrurt will follow in my footsteps."

Wert backed away and looked to Dagrurt and Sunder to see if they had heard Tyrus's words. Wert knew of the rivalry between the two brothers and was terrified that a fight might brake out between them, but no such thing happened. Without showing a single hint of satisfaction Dagrurt took his place by his father's side. Sunder gave a salute to his father and calmly walked out of the tent. Wert gave a sigh of relief, and turned his attention back to Tyrus and his soon to be new master, Dagrurt.

* * *

Sunder's calm appearance quickly vanished the moment he left the tent. Storming his way through the camp he shouted at any creature that got too close. "My father is nothing more then an old fool!" he cursed, "To think I gave all my life for his glory only to have him spit back in my face. And my dear brother…Hah! He doesn't deserve to share the same blood as me! That spoiled kitten couldn't even kill a beast les its back was turned, so what could he possible know of leading an army into battle?"

Sunder kicked a nearby weapons rack, sending it crashing down on one of the tents. Beasts scattered left and right, desperately trying to avoid the large cat's attention. "My father must've been mad to choose Dagrurt over me. Am I not everything a Warlord should be? I have crushed every foe who has dared oppose me or my father. My strength has been unchallenged since birth! Am I not a fearsome warrior? Am I not a beast deserving of greatness?"

He stopped. Looking around he realized his oration no longer had an audience. Sunder screamed in rage. Grabbing his mace from off his back he desperately searched for something to take his anger out on. The sound of footsteps caught his ear. From between the tents ran a rat mother with her son being led by his hand. "You there! Stop!" commanded Sunder.

The rat froze. Turning in the direction of Sunder she moved her child protectively behind her. Now that he had captive listener Sunder's rage dissipated. Slowly walking up to the rat, he continued his speech in a dangerously silky tone. "Tell me my dear," he said, "Am I not the most fear inspiring creature you have set your worthless eyes on? Have not the stories of my village massacres shown I am without mercy?"

He leaned down, his face mere inches away from hers. "Tell me…am I not ruthless?"

The rat stood silenced by her fear. Her hands gripped tighter to the child. Sunder brought his head back up and gave a laugh. "Hah! I suppose you wouldn't really be able give me an answer, would you? After all, we probably have never met before and stories never really do justice to the real thing."

Giving a smile Sunder took his mace into both his hands and swung it at the rat. The mother managed to push her son to the ground as it struck her side. There was a loud crunch. The force of Sunder's mace tossed her body several feet away, landing in a crumpled heap on the ground. Sunder strolled over to where she landed. Admiring his handiwork, he looked over the unmoving and now bloodied form at his feet. "So now you can tell me rat, am I not ruthless?"

From behind him came the familiar sound of steel being drawn. He turned with a grin on his face to see who was foolish enough to take him on. Sunder had faced all types of challengers and foes, but what he now faced surprised even him. Several feet away stood the child of the now dead rat mother, a small sword held tightly in both his hands. Sunder burst into laughter at the sight of this would be killer. "Boy, you better put that down before you hurt yourself. I'm no longer in the mood to kill anything else here tonight. Your mother here was just the stress reliever I needed. You should be happy. She finally got to do something meaningful with her life."

The child still stood holding the sword. Sunder began to notice that there was something different about this rat. He wore the same tattered clothes most of the young ones wear but that's where the similarities ended. Beneath the clothes was the darkest fur Sunder had ever seen. Parts that weren't illuminated by the torches seemed to blend in with the night. The child also presented some measure of strength. He showed no strain from the heavy steel in his hands. Sunder was impressed by this, but it was the rat's eyes that drew the most attention. They were a bright gold and had a look of complete and utter defiance shining within them. The child's stare burrowed deep into the wildcat, breaking away his ego and bravado. For the first time in his life Sunder doubted his own strength. Sunder's rage erupted once again. Giving a hiss he readied his mace. "So be it! If death is what you wish then I will gladly reunite you with your whore of a mother!"

Sunder rushed towards young rat, his weapon raised high to strike. The rat remained still, merely narrowing his eyes at the rabid wildcat. He quickly dove towards Sunder as the mace was brought crashing down. Tucking into a roll he came up kneeling with his back facing the wildcat's own. With all his strength the young rat drove the sword straight into the middle of Sunder's back. Sunder's body arched backwards and went rigid, an unintelligible gurgle escaping his lips. He looked as though he was stuck in this position, neither falling nor making any attempt to pull the blade from his spine. Eventually, what will Sunder had to keep death at bay faded. His body collapsed to the ground.

The young rat stood up and starred at Sunder's unmoving corpse. A permanent expression of shock and pain was frozen on the wildcat's face. It took a couple pulls, but he managed to free the sword from Sunder's back.

From deep within the camp there came a shout, which was soon picked up and repeated by others. "Warlord Tyrus is dead! Long live Warlord Dagrurt! Long live Warlord Dagrurt!"

The shout continued, growing louder with each reiteration. It wasn't long before it reached the young rat. He was still standing over Sunder's body, bloodied sword in hand. Gasps were heard from behind him. Turning he saw what the shouting was all about. There, donned in an impressive black silk outfit that belonged to his late father, stood Dagrurt. There were a large number of beasts behind him. They all had the same look of disbelief on their faces as they viewed the horrible scene in front of them.

Out of the crowd stumbled Wert, who rushed over to check the body of Sunder. There was no need to check for life but Wert went through the motions anyway. Hesitantly he turned to Dagrurt. "I'm sorry m'lord," he said, "But yer brother is dead."

Dagrurt didn't seem to care about the loss of his brother. Instead, he was more concerned with his brother's killer. Dagrurt examined the child, taking in everything from the way he stood to the look in his eyes. Wert, unsure of whether Dagrurt had heard him or not, repeated the bad news. Dagrurt acknowledged him and, giving a sigh, he looked back down and spoke to the young rat. "Well child…I really would like to thank you for doing something I should've done a long time ago, but the laws of my family say that I now have to avenge by brother's death by killing you. I'm really sorry about this."

The crowd backed away as Dagrurt drew his dagger and the young rat readied the sword in his hands. Dagrurt was much faster then his brother. He cleared the gap between himself and the rat almost instantly. Surprised by his speed, the young rat was barely able to duck under Dagrurt's attack. Remembering the motions of his last battle he dove to Dagrurt's side. He came up kneeling once again and drove the sword behind him. Instead of the soft whisper of steel piercing flesh there was a loud clang. Dagrurt had followed the young rat's roll and parried his thrust. The impact of parry caused the young rat's grip on the sword to loosen. Dagrurt took advantage of this and, with another swing, knocked the sword from the young rat's hands. Grabbing him by the neck Dagrurt lifted the child up and placed the point of the dagger to the young rat's stomach. "You have lost," said Dagrurt, "And in losing, how you die is now entirely of my choosing. So…shall I cut open your belly letting your guts spill out? Or maybe I'll slice your throat and watch you desperately try to hold on to the life you've so recently been introduced with."

Dagrurt paused, letting the images slip into the child's mind "Either way, every second you still live is because of me and no one else…Do you understand?"

Dagrurt's tightened his grip around the child's throat. Choking, the young rat managed a nod. Dagrurt then let go of his neck. "Good! Cause I have no desire to spare a beast if it isn't grateful for it."

Wert was very confused. "Um…But m'lord," he said, "Yor family's law, the law of yor father, says you must kill this child!"

Dagrurt looked back to Wert. "Don't think I haven't forgotten. He will die, eventually. In some way his life will come to an end, just not here. See that he gets cleaned up and well fed, Wert."

Wert looked to the child. Still confused he tried to find some answers without bringing about his master's anger. "Yes, of course m'lord…but…yor other servants might be confused by this incredible show of mercy. Wot should I tell em if they ask why?"

Dagrurt put his hand on Wert's shoulder. Wert gave a small shiver as the wildcat whispered in his ear. "Well, they shouldn't have to ask since they need no reason to carry out my orders. But, since I'm in such a good mood I'll tell you. My brother, as much of a fool as he was, was still the strongest beast in my father's army. He was hardly a pushover yet this child managed to kill him in a single blow, one that could've done me in as well. This child is a resource I will not let go to waste. He will join my son to train with Vain and, should he survive the next few seasons, he will be a most useful beast to have at my side."

Wert understood and went over to young rat. "You have no idea of the opportunity our lord Dagrurt is giving you. My name is Wert and I will be in charge of yor care for the next few days. What is yor name rat?"

The child gave no answer. After several moments of silence Wert realized no response was coming. "Well? Come out with it! You do have a name don't you?"

The young rat shook his head. Wert shouted back to his master, who was prodding his brother's body with his dagger. "M'lord! This child has no name!"

Dagrurt gave an honestly surprised look. Walking over he gave a small chuckle. "Heh heh, Well that's no good. How's the story of my brother's death supposed to spread if there's no name for his slayer?"

Dagrurt kneeled down in front of the young rat. He starred deeply into its eyes, his mind searching for something. After awhile he found what he was looking for. "Athanasius," he said, "That is the name I give to you…and maybe someday you'll be able to live up to it."

There was a loud thunderclap from overhead. The clouds had grown tired of their mercy and began to unleash a fearsome downpour onto the camp. The crowd dispersed as they went to find cover from the rain. Wert took the child by his hand and started to follow Dagrurt back to the warlord's tent. The young rat managed a backwards glance. The bodies of Sunder and his mother were still lying on the ground. No one attempted to remove their corpses, or even seemed to care. They remained on the ground as the rain washed away what color they had. Slowly the two bodies vanished, lost in a grayish curtain of water.

* * *

_"It was rather strange. Death had been given such a large reputation for being something greater then ourselves. A family will forever mourn the loss of one of its own. A fighter will gather insurmountable courage and skill to end the life of its foe. A beast will bring about its own death to prevent the death of a loved one. Yet… the death I saw that night was neither an impossible feat, nor an unbearable loss. To me, the warrior's tales were a lie. Death is such a far simpler thing. A flick of the wrist or the thrust of your arms and some beast's life is over. I ask you, could there be anything easier?_

_That night I was given my name and a life's worth of knowledge. The name was Athanasius, and the knowledge was in the dealing of death."_


	6. Chapter 6

The Book of Athanasius

Chapter 6

"First Impressions"

_"In the days that followed Sunder's death I was introduced to many things I would have never thought possible, things like having a full stomach and a warm bed with restful nights…things that most beasts might take for granted. The complete and utter contentment I felt all but destroyed the memories of that filthy and worthless life I once had, and who could blame me? Pain, fear, and hunger were no longer things I had to deal with on a daily basis and it was all thanks to Dagrurt. He gave me everything I needed… It's funny, all I did was kill his brother._

_In my eyes, Dagrurt had become my savior. No one had ever given me anything, let alone a life of luxury. With a childish ignorance I secretly wished for the chance to serve him and show that his generosity was not only appreciated, but worth giving back. As it turns out Dagrurt had the exact same idea…

* * *

_

Wert threw open the flaps of Athanasius's tent and quickly made his way towards the sleeping rat. Shaking Athanasius awake, Wert waited impatiently for his full attention. "Get yorself dressed and follow me outside," he said, "It is time for you to earn yor keep."

Dagrurt's hospitality had given Athanasius an unquestionable sense of loyalty and he followed Wert's orders without hesitation. Hurriedly he put on one of the many silk tunics he had been given during his stay. Slipping a belt around his waist, he then followed Wert out of the tent.

Dawn had just begun to break over the land with most of the vermin camp still asleep. The days and nights of excessive celebration for their new warlord were requiring much more then a simple night's rest for recovery. The camp looked practically deserted, save for the wildcat that waited for Wert and Athanasius.

He looked to be the same age as Athanasius but was dressed in a manner that announced he was much more then a simple child. Everything, from his golden yellow fur and silver embroidered shirt to his bold red cape, presented a picture of regal elegance. Having lived a life where needs are often fulfilled, the overwhelming feeling of boredom that came with the simple task of waiting caused the young wildcat to seek out ways to entertain himself. He pulled out a small sword, crafted in such a style as to match his wardrobe, and began a duel with some imaginary foe. A sadistic grin appeared on his face as he viciously cut down his opponent, and soon all the beasts his mind could conjure were falling before him. Even though he was a lord of all that is in his mind, he knew all this power would pale in comparison to the true feeling of thrusting his sword deep into the flesh of a living beast. Oh how he yearned for the chance. He was practically on verge of drooling when Wert came up to him. After giving a bow, Wert took Athanasius by the hand and presented him. "Young master Silus, this is Athanasius."

With a grin on his face and the sword still in his hand, Silus advanced towards them. Athanasius grew uncomfortably tense. The idea of somebeast still wanting revenge for Sunder's death had not entered his mind till now. Athanasius's immediate idea was to run, but his hand was still being held firmly by Wert. He clenched the fist in his free hand and waited for Silus to make the first move. To the good fortune of both youngsters, Silus sheathed his sword at the last minute and merely took a closer look at him. He was clearly disappointed in what he saw. "This is my uncle's killer? I had expected a beast of skill, strength, and at least of sporting age. This is just some poor rat's burden."

He hung his head in an exaggerated display of woe. "Oh fates! A shameful day it is when the mighty wildcat can be killed by a simple rat child."

Even though he was supposed to be feeling insulted, Athanasius couldn't help but be amused Silus's odd way of speaking. The words were much older then the voice that carried them. To Athanasius it was like a rock trying too hard to be a flower.

Angry that his insults had no effect on Athanasius, Silus shouted at Wert. "What are we doing here Wert? We could be halfway to Vain's camp by now but instead you're wasting my time here with this!"

Athanasius noticed the fear in Wert's voice as he apologized to Silus. "I'm v-very sorry y-young master, but…well…yor father, Lord Dagrurt, has ordered that Athanasius here will also be placed in the care of Vain as a…second pupil."

Silus was shocked. "M-My father gave this rat the same privilege as me? Hah! And I suppose after that my father will then hand over leadership to him and not me?" He placed his hand on his chin in an expression of thought. "Well, I have heard that madness comes with old age…and I suppose my father had seen enough seasons come and go. Wouldn't you say so Wert?"

Silus's question made Wert very uncomfortable. The fear of wrath from either the father or the son fought each other for dominance. His mind stumbled as he searched for the right answer. He then remembered that what Dagrurt could think up as punishment was much more painful then a simple scolding from his son. "Well yor father's orders are yor father's orders, young master Silus. So the sooner we carry them out the better."

Not waiting for a response, Wert hurriedly made his way to the two small sacks by Athanasius's tent. "I'm sure Vain will do his best to provide you with wot you need, but jus in case I've packed some clothes and supplies."

Athanasius went and lifted one of the sacks onto his back. He was able to manage the weight with little effort. As he was getting steady he noticed Silus made no attempt to grab his own. Silus merely gave a look to Wert, who then lifted up the sack and began to carry it himself. "Well, let's be on our way," he said, "We still have half a day's walk to Vain's camp and I think it's best if we meet him when there's still daylight."

The two young beasts followed him out of the campgrounds. "Yes, the more daylight the less chance of him killing us," thought Wert.

* * *

They had made good time crossing the rolling plains that surrounded Dagrurt's camp but when they entered the forest where Vain lived, Silus and Wert immediately began to have problems. Wert was not used to such physical labor and the weight of Silus's sack made him stop every couple feet to catch his breath. Silus, while doing better then Wert physically, was being done in by his own clothes. Wherever the was an excess of cloth there was a branch or bush more then willing to grab hold of it. Athanasius was the only one enjoying himself. This was partly due to Wert's and Silus's troubles making a rather easy going path for him to follow. 

Athanasius took in the sight of the forest around him. Having never left the vermin camp he was filled with excitement at the sudden change in the world around him. The shouts and screams of soldiers, the rancid smells of both the living and the dead, and everything else he had learned to live with was absent in this place. Athansius found himself strangely satisfied. His satisfaction left him though as he thought about the reason why he now traveled through such a place.

After first hearing of Vain, Athanasius's curiosity had been demanding to know more of him. He occasionally thought about asking his two traveling 'companions', but each time his desire to avoid their attention overpowered his wanting for knowledge. Luckily for him, Silus found his own reason to ask. After a valiant struggle, a stubborn thorn bush had claimed Silus's red cloak. That was last straw for the young wildcat. "This is ridiculous!" he shouted, "Why does this Vain have to live in the middle of such an ugly and disgusting place? I had never heard of him till a few days ago, yet it is us who have to travel and not him! Who is he to demand such action from me?"

Wert was relieved to have an excuse to stop and gladly answered Silus's question, in between gasps for air. "gasp Vain gasp lives in such a place gasp because his seasons of loyalty and service to yor family gasp has given him such a right to do so."

Silus was not satisfied with Wert's answer. "And what service is that? Exactly what am I to learn from him?"

Wert took a moment to catch his breath before answering. "Simply put young master…Vain…is a vicious killer. Hundreds, maybe even thousands, have had their lives cut short by him. When he was very young he happened to cross swords with yor grandfather. Yor grandfather was so impressed with a young beast having such incredible skill that he convinced Vain to join him in his conquest of the land. From that point on he became the family's personal assassin. Competing warlords, kings, village elders, and rebel leaders have all met their end at the hands of Vain…But it was strange, though he brought victory for our army he never wanted the glory or fame that came with such a feat. Only yor grandfather truly knew wot motivated Vain to do the things he did."

Wert's own thoughts brought a shiver down his spine. He had only met Vain once, but the image of the young black cloaked ferret, and the dry penetrating look he gave with his eyes, never left him. Shaking away the memory he continued. "Regardless of his reasons, his skill is unmatched and yor father feels there is no better beast to teach you the ways of combat."

This answer seemed to be enough for Silus. He stared ahead with eyes that practically glimmered with excitement. "Well…I suppose if my father believes he is the one to teach me, then we'd best hurry. The sooner this Vain makes me as good a killer as him the sooner I can take what is rightfully mine. Lead the way Wert."

With every muscle screaming a complaint Wert managed to stand. While readjusting the haversack on his back he caught sight of Athanasius. He had almost completely forgotten that the young rat was with them and that he was also to receive the same lessons. Wert still didn't quite understand why his master allowed such a pitiful child to accompany Silus or why he was given such an unusual name.

Some distant memory briefly flashed in Wert's mind, but was too quick to grasp a hold of. He tried desperately to bring the memory back but all he was able to resurface was Athanasius's name. Deciding it was nothing important, he continued on to Vain's camp.

* * *

When they reached the camp the sun had just started its slow decent into the horizon. Wert halted near the edge of a small clearing, motioning Silus and Athanasius to stop. Both of them noticed that Wert had grown increasingly nervous. Silus decided to ignore it, seeing his fear as a disgusting display of weakness from a 'lesser' beast then himself. Athanasius wondered how a servant of the most powerful family in the land could become so fearful. Wert had shown nothing but distaste for him because of his 'inferior' standing, yet Wert himself did nothing but grovel and cower like a worm. Either way, they were both relieved to soon be rid of him. 

Convinced it was safe enough, Wert slowly stepped into the clearing. Silus and Athanasius cautiously followed from behind.

It wasn't a particularly large camp. Judging from the burnt ground and tree stumps that looked too large to uproot, most of the space in the clearing was hand made. In the center stood a tent of modest size, big enough to easily accommodate a single beast but not too big or flashy as to draw the wrong kind of attention. A cooking fire lightly burned and crackled to the right.

Though everything suggested this was a home to some living creature there was still no sign of its owner. Silus let out a sigh of boredom as his patience started to leave him. Athanasius set his sack on the ground and looked to the other side of the tent. Strangely enough there was a large pile of what looked like every type of weapon ever made. Knives, spears, maces, hammers, swords, axes, and pretty much any other tool of death were all stacked together. Athanasius was awestruck. The idea of somebeast knowing a use for each and every weapon made him both fearful and excited. Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to Wert. When they had first entered the clearing, Wert's eyes were always darting from one point to the next in a nervous fit. Now, they were firmly fixed on the covered entrance to the tent. Wert placed his other hand on Silus's shoulder and made both him and Athanasius face forward.

With a large intake of breath, Wert addressed the opening. "Vain! Blade of Warlord Tyrus! I am Wert, servant to the new warlord Dagrurt, and I have brought those who will learn from you the art of death!"

Several moments of silence passed. Not a sound came from within the tent nor were there any signs of movement. Wert was at a loss for what to do next. Realizing the silence merely made him more uncomfortable he decided to repeat his address. "Vain! Blade of Wa!"

"Oh fer fates sakes," yelled a voice from within the tent, "Quit yer wailin' ah heard ya the first time!"

With a loud crash, something large fell inside the tent. Various curses could be heard as the voice's owner made its way outside. The tent flaps were thrown open and a light brown ferret in its middle seasons half stood and half hung in the entrance. The ferret held a sheathed sword in one hand and an uncorked jug was in the other. Swaying back and forth, it clumsily secured the sword around its waist while taking a large swig from the jug. The ferret wasn't very successful at keeping the jug's contents in its mouth. Large portions of brown liquid spilled onto the mangled and already stained shirt the ferret wore, causing it to cling to the ferret's body. Silus was the first to notice the ferret's defined form. "A female?" he said in disgust, "Wert! Who is this? Where is Vain?"

Wert's fear still had him on edge. He waited until the ferret finished her drink before asking her. "Ferret…Where is yor master, the one who goes by the name of Vain?"

The ferret gave a rather loud belch and tossed the jug onto the cooking fire. Whatever liquid was still left caused the fire to flare up. "Ah have no master," she said, "An' as fer the one called Vain, well yer lookin' at her."

All three of them starred at her in disbelief. She looked to the ground and chuckled. "Heh…Ah realize ah'm not very well known," She pointed a finger to Wert and glared at him, "but you, Wert, should at least be able ta remember me. Ah sure as hell remember you…ya pot bellied rat! Ya were tryin' ta pass yerself off as some sort of educated beast wit that talk of yers."

Vain staggered over to Wert. Silus and Athanasius slowly backed away from the 'pot bellied' rat. "Of course," she said in a rather sharp tone, "Maybe ya were too distracted wit all that cat tail ya was kissin'."

She was now face to face with Wert. The sleepy, or possibly drunken, haze disappeared from her eyes. Wert nearly swallowed his tongue as the stare that haunted his thoughts was now being given right in front of him. "I-I-I seem to r-r-remember now." His voice quivered with absolute terror. "Yes, y-yor Vain. N-N-No doubt about it."

Vain's hand came up and firmly rested itself on Wert's shoulder. "Good!" Her words slipped through clenched teeth. "Now that that's settled ya can clear up somethin' fer me." Vain motioned her head towards Silus. "Ah figure that the kitten is Dagrurt's little bastard but…" She looked down to Athanasius. "Would ya mind tellin' me who the other small fry is?"

Wert grabbed Athanasius and pulled him in front of Vain. "This is A-A-Athanasius. Dagrurt has o-ordered that he too will rec-c-ceive yor lessons."

Vain circled Athanasius, taking a good look at him as she did so. "Not much ta look at are ya?" She poked at his black fur. "More like a dressed up piece of coal then a rat."

Wert was always eager to please and quickly jumped at the chance to turn the situation in his favor. "I told Lord Dagrurt that he wasn't worthy of such an opportunity. If you'd like, I'll just take him back with me."

Vain still looked to Athanasius. Her eyes penetrated deeply into Athanasius' own. She didn't show it, but she was surprised in what she saw. Buried in the young rat's eyes was something very familiar to her, but had no place in the eyes of someone as young as Athanasius. "Athanasius huh," she thought to herself, "That's very clever of you Dagrurt."

Vain's silence was nearly killing Wert with worry. So much so he almost fainted when she finally spoke. "Wert…Yer job was ta bring these two ta me correct?" Wert started to give a lengthy answer but Vain's stare forced him into a simple nod. "Well then," she continued, "Yer duty is done an' ah suggest you get that large body of yers back ta yer master." She put her hand on the hilt of her sword. "Now!"

Wert didn't need any more motivation. Fear reduced his goodbye to bubbling gibberish as he dropped Silus's sack on the ground and practically dove back into the forest. Both youngsters had a hard time trying to hold back their laughter with Vain standing next to them. Oddly enough, it was Vain who started to snicker at the rat's ungraceful exit. "Hah! Bet you two never thought somethin' that big could move that fast eh?"

Vain went and lifted up both Silus's and Athanasius's sacks, setting them down by the fire. She knelt down and searched through them, putting what food they had aside and tossing the rest to the flames. The speed in which she did this left Silus little time to voice his objection. "W-What do you think you're doing?" he shouted, "Stop that!"

Standing up, Vain showed Silus one of his shirts. It was one of his favorites, with jewel encrusted buttons and frilly lace at the ends of its sleeves. "Ah'm not exactly sure wot ya call this or wot ya got on right now, but ah'm not havin' little clowns stayin' here at ma camp. Also, ah had fergotten ta chop some firewood." Vain tossed the garment over her shoulder. It fell onto the fire where it burned up rather quickly.

Silus ignored what reputation Vain had and shouted at her like he would any other troublesome servant. "You foolish ferret! Now what am I supposed to wear? You say those clothes looked like they belonged on a clown, but at least they were clean! I assure you, in a few days the stench you will have to bear from my current ensemble will be no one's fault but your own!"

Vain did her best to look apologetic, but the sarcasm in her voice did little to help her act. "Ah'm sorry yer highness. Yer right, that would be a dreadful shame. Don't worry yer groomed little tail off though. Ah have plenty of clothes that are more then worthy of such a beast as yerself." She ducked into her tent, emerging moments later with a small pile of clothes. "Here ya go!"

They were dropped unceremoniously at Silus's feet. Athanasius came closer to examine the pile with him. At first they appeared to be brown rags, but the familiar shapes revealed that these were once shirts at one point in time. Silus picked one up with two fingers. His whole body was revolted at the idea of it covering his fur and he immediately dropped it. Silus was now completely fed up with Vain and was prepared to put her in her place. "I've had just about enough!" He stormed over to where Vain stood. "Do you have any idea who I am ferret? I am Silus, son of Dagrurt and future ruler of these lands! I've heard your story. You pledged your service and loyalty to my family and in turn you owe your allegiance and servitude to me. Continue treating me as common dirt and I'll see to it my father separates your head from your neck, understand?"

Silus waited for Vain's answer and apology. What he got instead was her fist planted firmly in his stomach and the wind knocked clean out of him. The young wildcat crumbled to the ground, gasping for air. Vain pushed him onto his back with her foot, making sure he was paying attention when she spoke. "Ah owe you nothing cat an' if ya had heard ma true story you'd know this. As fer yer title, ya might as well jus' claim ta be the sun in the sky cause ah don't care." She kneeled down close to him. "Listen closely. The reason ah treat ya like dirt is cause right now that's exactly wot yer life is worth. Why else do think yer father jus' handed ya over ta me? It's Dagrurt himself who's letting me do with you as ah please. Ah could kill ya right now an' ah guarantee he wouldn't shed a single tear or lay a hand on me. Yer life is mine, understand?"

She left Silus to choke out his answer and made her way to Athanasius. "As fer you…Ah know that silence is golden but with you it's startin' ta get on ma nerves. Are ya mute or do ya know how ta speak?" Athanasius gave a nod. "That's good, cause the next time ah see ya give a nod this season ah'll make ya scream so loud the whole forest'll be deaf, got it?"

He was about to nod again but quickly stopped himself. Clearing his throat, he gave his answer. "Yes Miss Vain. Ah got it."

Vain's moods seemed to come and go rather quickly. "Hah! Ah'm flattered by yer manners, but there's no need ta be formal. You'll be callin' me much worse in the days ta come ah assure you. Heheheh!"

She strolled back over to Silus who had managed to get back up on his feet. His tears fell from rage filled eyes. "Ah take it that was the first time someone's put ya on yer back like that," Vain said coldly, "Well it won't be the last if ya keep carryin' on like ya were a moment ago. Now git back over there an' put on somethin' more respectable." She turned her head to Athansius. "You too, ah wanna see ya both ready by the time ah get back."

Silus hobbled over and started to undress. Athanasius did the same, making sure to avoid eye contact. He would've laughed at the young wildcat for getting what was coming to him, but beasts that are given shame and humiliation tend to find a way to give it to someone else. Athanasius had no desire to be that someone else. The two youngsters dressed in complete silence. They were both lucky enough to find shirts with fewer holes then they had fingers. Athanasius once again felt the familiar touch of worn out and drafty cloth against his fur. Though still young, he was embraced with a slight moment of nostalgia. Silus, however, was not taking it very well. His once regal appearance was shattered by the vagrant's outfit he now wore. In a futile attempt he tried to regain some of his dignity by standing firmly at attention.

Vain had disappeared behind the tent. The sounds of shifting metal were heard as she rummaged through her pile of weapons. She soon returned with two small swords in her hands. She stopped to admire the two newly clothed youngsters. "Heh, now ya two look like beasts ah can relate to. Here," she tossed a sword to each of them, "You'll be usin' these fer sparrin'. Ah know they ain't much ta look at, but they're good, reliable, an' they'll help ya get used ta havin' the weight of some real steel in yer hands"

Vain was right. They certainly weren't the sharpest blades in the land. Seasons of use had worn the edges down to the point where they could hardly be considered lethal or even dangerous. Silus let the sword drop from his hands and unsheathed his own. He was still defiant, but his words no longer carried the same command they once had. "I already have a sword," he said plainly.

Vain eyed the sword. "That is rather pretty lookin'. Mind if ah take a look at it?"

Silus didn't really have a choice and handed the blade over to Vain. She gave it a quick look over. "Nice design," she commented, "Beautiful hilt…Very shiny…Jus' one problem though…"

Silus never got the chance to ask what the problem was. Vain drove the small sword into the ground and, while still holding onto it, gave the flat side of the blade a swift kick. The sword snapped at the hilt, breaking into two pieces. "Swords aren't meant ta shine or impress." She handed the broken pieces back to Silus. "If ya still want ta fight wit it, be my guest."

The broken pieces fell from Silus's hand. There were no more words as Silus lifted the other sword from off the ground. Vain took a couple steps back, creating some distance between herself and them. "Now that all that nonsense is done an' buried we can git started. Listen up! Near the end of each day we're gonna have ourselves a little fight. You'll be usin' the weapons yer holdin' now while ah'll be usin' my own sword here." She patted the sword at her waist. "Yer blades may be dull but mine is not, so ya best fight wit all ya got durin' these little tussles else you'll be walkin' away a lesser beast then when ya came in…If yer lucky that is. Now before ya bury me under a pile of stupid questions, ya should know that ah ain't gonna teach ya a bloody thing on how ta use a sword. Ah don't have the time or the patience ta explain wot ya should already know. If ya don't know, then ah suggest ya pay good attention ta wot ah say an' do cause anythin' ya learn here, ya'll learn it on yer own. Got it?"

They both replied with a timid yes. Vain made a glance to the setting sun. It was just about cut it in half by the horizon. "Looks like yer in luck boys. We still got some daylight left…Shall we make the best of it?" She drew her sword, performing a couple practice swings with it as she readied herself. "Come on. Let's see wot ya can do!"

Silus and Athanasius raised their swords, but neither of them made a move. They stood frozen like statues. Irritated with their lack of courage, Vain decided to give them some motivation and encouragement. "Ya make me sick," she shouted angrily, "I thought ya came here ready ta be true killers but yer still nothin' more then scarred babes!" She pointed her sword at Silus. "Especially you, ya worthless little kitten! Tell me, how do ya expect ta lead an army when yer too much of a coward ta swing yer sword? Was the beatin' ah gave ya earlier too much fer ya? If so, then maybe ya should do us all a favor an' run that sword through yerself!"

There came a scream from Silus that nearly made Athanasius jump. The young wildcat held his sword high and ran madly towards Vain. She gave a satisfied smile as she easily sidestepped out of the way. Silus's sword cleaved nothing but open air. Undaunted, he shifted his weight and swung his sword to the side in a wide arc. Once again, a simple step took Vain out of harm's way. She was amused by Silus's first attempts at trying to silence her and brought her hand to her mouth to muffle the laughter. Athanasius could barely hear it, but that mocking sound rang so loud in Silus's ears it was deafening. Fueled by anger, Silus began to relentlessly attack her. His swings were wild and off balanced. Vain had an easy time dodging them, though there was the occasional clang of metal when she parried one she didn't feel like avoiding.

Athanasius watched Vain lead Silus in several small circles around the camp. After observing for several moments, he started to notice the reason behind Vain's cold words. Whether they were intended to be hateful or not, they clearly had an enormous effect on the way Silus was now fighting. Athanasius saw it plain as day. Silus let his emotions get the better of him and now every swing was not only reckless, but also had his full strength put into it. Vain didn't really have to do anything as Silus would tire himself out to the point where he would no longer be able to defend. Athanasius was impressed by her tactics. She had him beat the moment he raised his sword in anger and now it was completely up to her as to when this duel will end.

It took longer then Athanasius expected, but Silus finally started to show signs of fatigue. Vain let him give two more swings before a swift motion of her hands knocked the blade from his own. Silus's had exhausted himself and didn't have any strength left to try and recover his weapon. He shed no tears or cried for help, simply closed his eyes and waited for Vain to finish him off. As if she had read his mind, Vain reassured the young wildcat. "Don't worry, ya ain't gonna die jus' yet…But ya are givin' up to early. After all, who said these fights were wit swords only?"

Silus opened his eyes just in time to witness Vain's foot come into contact with his face. Blood sprayed from his nose as he fell hard onto his back. For the first time he could remember, Silus cried out in pain. He clutched his bleeding nose and curled up into a ball. Sobbing like an infant, Silus admitted defeat and begged Vain to stop. "Yer lucky ah'm willin' ta grant ya mercy on yer first day," she said and accepted his surrender with a firm kick to the youngster's back.

Silus buried his face in his arms as he cried out once again. Vain had one last disgusted look at him, then turned her attention to Athanasius. "And wot the hell did you think ya were doin' jus' standin' there watchin'?" she shouted as she advanced towards him, "Tell me, did ya think ya can take me on all by yerself?"

Athanasius spoke but the rest of his body remained frozen still. "No…ah didn't, ah…"

"Then why did ya leave Silus ta face me alone?" Vain continued to move closer. "Did ya want ta see me crush him like ah did or were ya jus' too stupid ta realize how important he was ta you? Wasn't he the only help ya had against me? Wot will ya do now that he's finished?"

She fired off her questions one after another. He had no idea that what she had done previously to Silus she was now doing to him. Flustered, his mind was kept busy trying to find his answers while she moved in for the kill. Athanasius was within her sword's reach when she ceased her questions and went deathly silent. The time it took for her to grasp her sword in both hands and move it to strike was only a second, but for the right mind a second is all it takes. The threatening image of Vain with her sword snapped Athanasius out of his stupor. He raised his sword to block her strike, but the power of her swing knocked him to the ground. Scrambling to his feet he faced Vain just in time to parry another attack. This time he had braced himself and was able to remain standing after the blow struck. Athanasius readied himself once again, but what Vain did next caught the young rat off guard. With her sword lowered and a face booming with pride, she congratulated him. "That was very good Athanasius! Ya handle a sword very well fer one so young." Kind words were something very foreign to Athanasius but his heart was moved by their sound nonetheless. She gave an honest smile which he gladly returned.

Vain's sword lashed out in a silver blur. The sheer speed left Athanasius with no time to scream. Dropping his sword, he starred at the large wound Vain had cut into the backside of his paw. The sudden surge of pain had thrown him into shock. He fell to his knees and watched in horrified silence as blood began to flow out.

Vain had no intention of being merciful this time. She positioned her self to strike down Athanasius, but the sound of light footsteps quickly stayed her hand. Spinning around she kicked upped a cloud of dirt into the face of her would-be back stabber. Silus's charge was halted as the dirt cloud struck him. Coughing violently he staggered back. Vain took a moment to decide how she would deal him. A moment was all she got. With a blood stained nose and half closed eyes, Silus charged once again. Vain thought about doing the same dance she did earlier, but a firm and focused thrust of Silus's sword eliminated that chance. Vain now found herself parrying every blow Silus dished out. This was not the same 'kitten' she had fought earlier.

The sounds of their clashing swords pulled Athanasius attention away from his personal horror. He watched Silus and Vain fight, only this time he saw it differently. Summoning up what strength he had left, he lifted his sword with his good paw and joined Silus in combat.

Though she scolded him for not doing it, Vain never expected the wounded Athanasius to start attacking her as well. They coordinated their attacks and struck out at the same time, hoping one blow would land. She was able to catch both strikes with her sword. Pushing off with her sword, she sent them stumbling back. When they regained their balance, Vain saw she was now finally facing two beasts determined to win.

They were very fierce looking. Sadly their bodies did not match their determination. Both of them were now at their limit, barely able to stand let alone fight. As Silus and Athanasius tried to find the strength to continue, the sun disappeared into the horizon in one last flare of light. And just like that…it was over. Vain sheathed her sword and commended them on their skill, though "Ya managed ta survive…Fer today," was all she said. The two youngsters let their exhaustion overtake them and collapsed to the ground.

* * *

It was surprising how Vain quickly changed from torturer to caretaker. In mere moments she had begun bandaging Athanasius's wounded paw. She gave Silus a mixture of herbs to ease the pain of his bruises and a small wet cloth to clean the dried blood from his nose. 

Not a single word passed between them as she did this. Even when they gorged themselves on the dinner she made, they did it in complete silence.

When Silus and Athanasius finished, Vain handed them two blankets to be used as bedding. "Ya can sleep where ya like, jus' not in ma tent," she instructed, "You boys git a good night's rest. An' don't be surprised if yer nightmares turn out ta be real in the mornin'." She then retired to her tent.

Athanasius half expected a complaint from Silus but, whether it was from exhaustion or maybe something deeper, the young wildcat uttered no such words. He went and laid his blanket out by the fire and was already fast asleep by the time Athanasius set his down on the other side.

Sleep didn't seem to come to Athanasius as quickly as it did with Silus. The fire slowly died out as he lay on his side, starring at his bandaged paw. What had happened in the span of that one day was a lot for one young mind to take in. He thought about the ferret that had both given and helped to heal the wound he was now starring at. She had shown many things about herself, but he wondered which of those words and emotions were true and which ones were merely ploys?

Athanasius wasn't sure why he did it, but the sound of Vain coming out of her tent made him shut his eyes tightly and pretend to be asleep. He listened as her footsteps came to a stop near him. She kneeled down and whispered softly in his ear words that made his blood run cold. "Ah know yer awake so listen up. Ah'm gonna let ya in on a little secret. Ah lied when ah told the kitten that ah might kill him. Whether he learns ta fight or not he will go back to his father very much alive. You…however…are a different story. Ah now fer a fact there's no one left alive that cares fer ya anymore, that yer completely alone…an' unwanted. Ah mean look at ya…wouldn't even make a decent meal let alone a warrior. Ah'm begginin' ta think Dagrurt jus sent ya here ta waste ma time an' git a good laugh at ma expense. Ah don't like bein' messed wit an' should ya do anythin' ta prove me right…"

Athanasius's eyes shot open as Vain drove a dagger into the ground several inches from his head. She reached out and grabbed his injured paw, squeezing it hard. Athanasius writhed in pain, but somehow had the will to not cry out. After several moments of agony, Vain let go. "Remember that feelin'," she said, "Cause the last moments of yer life will be much worse." Vain stood up and returned to her tent.

Faced with troubling and horrific events a child is allowed an outburst of emotion to ease its pain. There would've been no shame in crying for Athanasius, but the young rat kept his silence nonetheless. Turning onto his back, he reached over to pull out the dagger Vain had left behind. He held it close and closed his eyes, ready for the day to finally come to an end. Sleep came to him quickly now, with his nightmares waiting patiently for him to wake.

* * *

_Never again. I made that promise to myself. Never again would I be so helpless and weak._

_I'm sure your probably wondering why I just didn't run away. Staying would almost certainly guarantee more suffering and quite possibly my death. Well I ask you…was the rest of the world any safer? Who's to say that if I left I wouldn't just find myself at the mercy of someone else's cruelty? That night, I realized this wasn't the first time my fate was being decided by someone other then myself. Whether by the sword, by strength, or by promise, my life was at the whim of others. That kind of life was not one I intended to live. In order to end this I needed the strength and skill to be able to decide the fate of others. And I knew Vain was the only one who could give me that kind of power. Though I swore, if she ever tried to harm me like that again… then she'll be the one walking away a lesser beast._


	7. Chapter 7

The Book of Athanasius

Chapter 7

"The days after and the night before"

_"When I awoke the next day I was greeted with a very welcomed sight, Vain's smiling face. The grin extended from ear to ear and seemed to say she was overwhelmed with joy at the fact that I had sta…I'm sorry. As you can probably guess, that last part was somewhat of a fib, just a teasing of good nature and its kin you understand. If in any way you started to believe that lie, then I assure you somewhere I am currently having a laugh at your expense. Deceit aside, let us forget that last bit and let me try this again…couldn't even write it with a straight face anyway… _

_A bucketful of freezing water can end one's sleep very quickly though I'm still not sure what felt colder, the water or Vain's sadistic looking grin. She certainly did look glad to see me, but the reason behind it was definitely sinister in nature._

_I wished for strength. I wished for skill. I wished for power. Vain seemed determined to make me wish I never stayed. After the rude awakening, which she called a 'morning bath,' Vain immediately set out to turn me and Silus into beasts of physical greatness. I never laughed back then, but now I think it's rather amusing. In order for her to give us strength she had to first rip it away with the most brutal of chores. She wasn't completely without mercy though. Should we struggle or stray from the task at hand, she would give us a brief respite by laying us out with a single blow from fist or foot. I soon learned that a blow to the head worked just as well as any words of encouragement and that the harder she hit, the more time there was to rest._

_I thought my first fight with Vain was challenging, but the ones that followed showed me exactly how much of a fool I was. The strains of the day would leave me with very little strength, the mere act of lifting my sword requiring a supreme summoning of will. Silus faired no better and we both fought with the fear of death firmly embedded in our minds. Unfortunately, I had the knowledge that it was only my life that was on the line._

_It was obvious she went easy on us, but even then we still walked away with our fair share of cuts and bruises. How well we performed could be seen by how bloodstained our clothes were as the vanishing sunlight brought an end to another horrid day._

_During the night, Vain would deliver to me more threats and curses. The things she would whisper into my ear were some of the most cruel, bloody, and dare I say creative ways to die. If I had the foresight in knowing the outcome of my stay I would've taken notes. _

_Her words were supposed make me flee in terror, yet that grin of hers would always be the first thing I'd see in the morning. Though her happiness might've been caused by my suffering, it was still because of me that she expressed joy. I believed there was some form of gratification in that._

_What Silus and I had to endure did not go entirely unrewarded. Each day that passed was slightly different then its predecessor. Our chores would go by just a little bit faster or our swords would feel a little bit lighter in our hands. Pretty soon we found ourselves with the strength to give Vain somewhat of a challenge._

_We were changing, both in strength and in skill. We had figured out that in each of Vain's insults was a lesson to be learned and we made sure that if mistakes were made, they were made once and only once. It wasn't long before we managed to end a day unscathed. Pride was something Vain stripped away from us but, whether she meant to or not, that night she gave it back tenfold. _

_Sadly… that was the only time we slept without the addition of any new scars. After that, Vain no longer spat insults at us and kept herself in uncomfortable silence during combat. In a sick and twisted way this ceased what help we ever had from her. She was certain to never let us have it easy… her lessons always had to be learned the hard way._

_I can't seem to remember how long this routine went on. At that age I had no idea what half a season was, but I'm sure if someone told me I would've called them a liar. _

_Though time seemed to flicker past, the changes of the world did not go by unnoticed. The sun had started to shine brighter then ever and its blistering heat stayed with us well into the night. It was during such a night that we received our first visitor. _

_I couldn't see what this beast looked like, but I knew for certain it was there. When you hear the approaching footsteps of a possible murderer every night, any other sound will ring out loud and clear. _

_The visitor didn't get very far into the clearing before encountering Vain's 'hospitality'. Luckily, whatever he managed to gurgle out in those first few moments had saved him from a very painful death. Several whispers were soon exchanged. I strained to hear their words, but the conversation ended rather quickly. The visitor left and Vain moved to deliver her latest morbid fantasy to my young ears. _

_She made it about halfway before stopping. I at first thought that this was some new form of torment, making me wait and writhe in the agony of anticipation…that is…until I heard her turn around and head back into her tent. There were no threats that night, nor was there any sleep for me. _

_The next day she immediately forced us into a run through the forest. Her pack she had tied around her should have been a dead giveaway, but it took me quite sometime before I realized Vain had no intention of turning around and heading back._

_I had no idea where she was taking us or why. The simple solution to this problem would've been to ask, but the bruises on my body were proof of Vain's tolerance for unwanted questions. Silus's silence told me he knew the same._

_She ran us till sundown without so much as a word. Our path had appeared to be erratic and random, but the way she eyed the forest around us told me she knew precisely where she was, and where we were headed._

_We slept where we stopped. The day long trek had left me and Silus too tired to question the reason behind it. When we woke she handed us our swords, though they were no longer the rusted pieces of metal we had grown accustomed to. These were new, solid, and sharp. She had given us tools that had only one purpose, to kill. I should've felt safer…I had never felt more fearful…

* * *

_

It was the second night Athanasius had to use the smoother side of a tree as a bed. He lay starring deeply into the darkness. There was no fire to light his surroundings and the forest canopy kept what little moonlight there was at bay. Neither Vain nor Silus could be seen, but Athanasius still knew they were there.

Silus wasn't a particularly loud sleeper, but in the gentle silence of the forest his shallow breathing could be heard quite easily. "Stupidity has its gifts I guess," thought Athanasius. He had grown slightly envious of the wildcat's lack of worry and how finding sleep never seemed to be a problem with him.

Athanasius could never let such a vice come to him, however. For him, carelessness and foolishness would merely bring pain and death. It was Vain who embedded that truth firmly into his mind. He felt her eyes always on him, watching and waiting for just one reason to end his life. For half a season he managed to survive, but now he was at a complete loss. He had no idea where they were, where they were going, or why. This worried Athanasius to no end. How could his quick thinking save him if he knew nothing of what he was about to face?

There came a voice from the other side of the tree. "Why don't ya jus say wot's on yer mind? Ah know yer jus' _diein'_ ta ask me bout our little trip here." It was Vain, always one step ahead.

Having little choice, Athanasius accepted her invitation. "Why are we 'ere," he asked, "Why did ya give us real weapons, huh? Are we goin' somewhere's we need em?"

Vain gave a small chuckle. Athanasius heard the sharp scraping sound of stone on steel. She was sharpening her blade. The young rat instinctively reached down and rested his hand on the handle of his own sword. Two days of neglect from Vain's attacks had left him almost wanting for a battle.

"Well…" Vain replied, "We're here cause this is as far as ah could run ya in two days. Ah gave ya real swords cause havin' two whelps carryin' useless hunks o steel would make me look bad. An' ah assure ya, there ain't no place safe enough ta go unarmed." Vain gave another chuckle.

He should've expected it. Athanasius's desperation had led to hope, something Vain is more then willing to tear to shreds for her own amusement. He gripped his sword tightly, wondering if he could swing it quickly enough to deal any kind of fatal blow to his tormenter.

He let go. Of course he couldn't. For all he knew it might've been exactly what Vain wanted. Leaning his head back, Athanasius wondered if he should try stupidity for a change.

Vain stopped her sharpening and let out an uneasy sigh. "Sorry bout that. Couldn't resist ya know?" She had done this before, from devil to friend in the blink of an eye. "Ya were brave enough ta ask me the right questions so ya deserve the right answers. A ways from here, at the forest's edge, is a small village of woodlanders…hares I think. Tis not very large, but it is well known." She resumed her sharpening. "We're here ta make sure that anyone livin' there will be dearly missed."

Those last words weren't meant to be cryptic. Athanasius knew exactly what she was saying. Still, a beast needing to be killed is a beast with a reason to be killed. He decided to risk another question. "Wot did they do?" he asked timidly.

Vain raised an eyebrow to his question. "Do? They didn't do anything. Tis some other bugger's foolishness that brings me ta them. All they did was be the first ones ta come ta mind."

Athanasius tried to imagine what the villagers looked like. He had seen hare slaves before but couldn't quite picture whole families of them. "Whole families," he thought, "Fathers…Mothers…Children…"

"Seems like rotten luck ta me," he said out loud, "So if they didn't do anythin' then who did?"

"Eh…" She acted as though it wasn't of any importance, "Some ol' hare that forgot who exactly rules this land. Ya see, Tyrus lets those he conquers pretty much do as they please…so long as they let his army do the same. Well, this daft bugger up an' decides he an' his kin aren't gonna let us have our spoils now that Tyrus is committed ta a hole. They ran out wot troops we had livin' wit em an' declared their land 'free'."

"So why doesn't Lord Dagrurt jus attack em instead?" Athanasius was still trying to make sense of the situation, forgetting who exactly he was asking. "Why do these innocent hares 'ere 'ave ta die?"

He turned his head to look over at Vain, but immediately pulled it back as her sword imbedded itself in the trunk of the tree. She was back to her normal self, from friend to devil in the blink of an eye. "Ah know ah jus didn't hear the word 'innocent' come from those pitiful little lips of yers." Removing the blade, she stood in front of Athanasius and placed its edge up against his neck. "Ya must've meant ignorant, cause that's all they'll ever be. As fer 'lord' Dagrurt, he knows exactly wot he's doin'. Takin' out this village will not only lead ta this hare's surrender, but will be a fittin' warnin' ta anybeast thinkin' ta do the same. These woodlanders…these goodbeasts…cherish things like honor, friendship, and love more then their own lives. That's how they lost this land in the first place."

His poor choice in words might've added another scar to his already battered body, but Athanasius never thought they would get him killed. He tried desperately to find a way out of this now deadly exchange of words. "Okay…If the death o' these 'ignorant' woodlanders is so important'n why are me an' Silus 'ere? Can't ya do it quicker without us?"

That all too familiar grin crept up Vain's face. "That's wot ah'm gonna find out. If ya hear any screams tonight, then the answer is yes. If not…ya best ready yerself fer a bloody tomorrow." She whipped her sword back into its sheath and, with steps no louder then a whisper, vanished into the forest.

Athanasius had no desire to wait for the 'answer'. When he assured himself Vain was no longer present, he moved to find a tree that wasn't quite as cleaved. Passing by Silus, he realized the young wildcat wasn't quite as oblivious as he had thought.

"I'm starting to believe that the legend of my uncle's killer might actually be true."

After spending half a season locked away in voluntary silence, Silus's sudden attempt at conversation was quite a shock for Athanasius. Quicker then a single breath, Athanasius had his sword drawn and trained on Silus. The young wildcat continued to talk, not knowing how close he came to an undesirable end. "Luck seems to favor those with thick heads and from what I just heard; your skull must weigh a ton."

Athanasius didn't understand some of Silus's words, but he knew an insult when he heard one. He wondered what Vain might do if she came back to find a very dead son of a warlord… Most likely something far less enjoyable then death, he figured. Humor appeared to be a wiser choice then anger. "If luck's wot gets me through 'nother day'n ah'll be as thick headed as ah can," he spouted back.

The retort did little to change Silus's attitude. "There's no need to amuse me any further with your childish quips. Please understand, I didn't mean you are an idiot all the time. Certainly not, since one of such low wits would never have lived as long as you have. It is just that sometimes your actions make you look quite foolish." Sitting up, Silus finally noticed how close he was to the rather sharp end of Athanasius's sword. "Heh, did you do this just to prove me right?"

Silus obviously wasn't frightened and since carrying out his threat would've merely brought about both their deaths, Athanasius angrily lowered his sword. "Ah don't care if ah look foolish ta ya. Ah do wot ah can ta stay alive!"

Silus's laughter told Athanasius he was still at the losing end of the argument. "I've heard better lies from beasts on the chopping block. If living is all you cared about then you would have ran away the first chance you got. No…you're here for the same reason I am...Power…We both want it and we know Vain is the one that can help us get it."

Silus couldn't have been more right, but Athanasius wasn't about to let him have the last word. "An' wot power do we git from killin' mother's an' babes?"

The young wildcat shook his head. "None…but what we do get is the makings of our own legend. Think about it. The tale of how you and I brought merciless justice to the insolent beasts of this village will be on the lips of every woodlander in the empire. They will carry fear in hearts for us and it's in that fear we will have our power!"

Athanasius took a couple steps back. The way Silus described a village massacre like a starving beast talks about his favorite three course meal was slightly frightening to the young rat.

"Don't you see?" he continued, "This isn't just some order handed down from my father to Vain. The ferret was going to give this to us as a gift…That is…" His voice grew dark with disgust, "Until you thought it would be a good idea to insult her pride. I find it very depressing that I now have to rely on the ferret's '_good nature_' to keep these villagers very much alive tonight. Pardoning your ignorance, she very well might leave them for us to handle in the coming day."

Not wanting anything more to do with his bringer of disappointment, Silus laid himself back down. His arrogance still showed as his back was fearlessly presented. Athanasius stayed his hand and decided to find his own rest. The nearest tree proved to be suitable enough.

Once again the young rat starred deeply into the darkness. His mind slowly drifted to the village at the forest's edge. He couldn't quite understand why the thought of so many meeting their end brought with it a heavy heart. If he disobeyed Vain now, then all he went through would've been for naught…So why was he so hesitant?

He looked upward and noticed a small patch of moonlight dimly shining through the branches and leaves. So many things were uncertain, but he knew one thing was for sure. Whether by his hands or Vain's, this was to be the last night the villagers would ever see.

* * *

_For me, death was around every corner. Yet that night, the thing that scared me the most was myself. If the coming day was truly to be a bloody tomorrow, as Vain had said, then I would be forced to choose between what I knew was right…and what I felt to be true._

_I wished I had heard screams that night._


End file.
